Cantor Morning
by ScribeyeSteak
Summary: Saber tries to piece together the night before, while nursing his usual hangover…
1. Cantor Morning

Saber had long since lost the right to call his circumstances shocking. Waking up by himself but with the clear evidence of a partner the night before was as familiar as drinking for him. The fact he couldn't even recall what happened was also a familiar sensation, along with the pounding headache from a night of too much of a good brew. Too bad he wasn't drunk anymore; putting two and two together hurt like a bitch. Come to think of it, the only thing he noticed that WAS different was his face; no stinging sensation of being slapped. Shit, maybe he was finally improving after nearly fifteen years as a mercenary… back to now though.

He took in his bed; tattered sheets, multiple patches of dried fluids, and it sounded like the supports were about ready to give. Whoever she was, he'd give her credit for trying; the marks on his back and the saliva on his dick were a good indicator she'd be into him. No lipstick though; guess he wasn't THAT much of a catch. Then again, tavern wenches rarely dolled themselves up that much unless they were already gunning for a catch. Still, he enjoyed the feeling of crisp sea air, the sound of pounding rain at his window, and the wet stench of…stone? The inn at the harbor didn't have stone in its construction.

 _Wait…we're not in the harbor anymore…'_

That's right: they'd left the harbor a few days ago and were trying to reach the Temple. Something about more brigands, a mountain… there was an earthquake at some point. It wasn't until a particularly nasty flash of lightning illuminated his hazy world that he remembered what happened. How the upcoming storm had kept them from reaching the mountain village and forced them to turn around and take refugee in an old fort near where they'd saved those Pegasus Knights earlier. So if they didn't make it back to the harbor, and they weren't pushing forward...oh hell.

They were about a few hours away from any villages or other settlements, no one else had come by the night before, and ever since the incident on Barth's fortress, their merry band had totaled himself, the Priory kids, and Valbar's men. He KNEW that his mystery lay was of the fairer sex, so that meant there was only one explanation… "Well damn".

Saber considered his circumstances and his surroundings. Again, minus feeling sore and hung over, there was no other signs of struggle; nothing that suggested any kind of foul play. Considering the trio of girl's arcane gifts, it didn't seem like there were any signs of burns or in the case of the rosette, scorched impacts. Saber was strong, he could proudly admit that. But even he would be in trouble in the face of magic wielders, and he knew that at least two of them were not shy about resorting to spell flinging when the chips were down or backed into a corner. As for Curls…well, he'd seen those three poor souls that had been drained of their life force thanks to the cleric's ghastly Nosferatu, and HE was still kicking if the pain in his head was any testament. Still, he couldn't help but be annoyed at the scenario now presented to him.

It wasn't just that he'd fucked one the girls, it wasn't even that they were barely past the cusp of womanhood. Sure he usually stuck to women that served mead, but the youngest they'd go was about nineteen. It wasn't even the fact they were women of the cloth; there'd already been a couple of blasphemers on the road. No, it was the fact that CLEARLY they'd enjoyed one hell of a night, and he couldn't. Remember. Squat.

 _'Alright, think Saber_ …' "Fuck, that hurts." He hissed, regretting his plan immediately. Still, he wasn't going to get anywhere by doing nothing, so he tried to piece together the fragmented pieces of his past actions the best he could. They made it back to this fort: check. They took shelter only to find it was well stocked, not surprising considering the Brigands that had previously occupied it. So with nowhere to go and nothing else to do, they did what adults do when presented with the chance; relish.

Celebrating; always a fun time. Plenty of good food and drinks… LOTS of drinks now that he thought of it. Turns out Valbar could down an entire keg and still come back for more. The kids meanwhile weren't as resilient, but at least the boy knew he had limits and had the sense to step back early.

Getting to the three; the rosette was drunk, the little healer claimed she had a stomachache and barely even touched a mug before turning in first, and the lass was only about an hour behind, but had a clear stagger to her gait. She'd definitely had some of the Ram Wine; of that he was certain. He could even see her sitting with Leon talking about something or another with two nursed glasses in arms reach of both. Somehow, the thought of wine brought a familiar sensation rushing back…

 _She leaned up to capture his mouth, pushing him back against the dresser. He could taste the faint trace of wine on her lips, barely registering above his own alcoholic intake. Still, it was a nice flavor to add to her passionate mouth-fucking. His hand grabbed the back of her head and pulled her closer, practically impaling his into her mouth and engaging her in a dance of tongues. Not to be out done, his clandestine partner wrapped her dainty hands around his broad shoulders, the soft material of her nightgown rubbing against his scarred rugged chest…_

That didn't mean squat. He knew all three had similar nightgowns from their days at the Priory thanks to taking laundry duty a few times…at least until Mae freaked out and barred him from washing their clothes. It's not like he even touched their underwear; He didn't clean ANYONE'S undergarments but his own and stated that on no uncertain terms. The lips could've been a clue, if only because he didn't recall any other tastes outside the wine, and he knew that of the three only Curls elected to keep her mouth free of balm. The only thing she used was perfume; a mixture of lilac that offset Mae's stronger scent of oranges (for whatever inane reason) or Celica's lack of enhancement.

That COULD have been enough… if it weren't for the fact the storm had washed away any fragrance or makeup the duo had before they managed to reach the fort. After a quick change of clothes, all three had the same scent that night, meaning that smell wasn't a good lead. Saber took his mind off the investigation long enough to reach for his set of pyrite and flint, using the two minerals to ignite the candle that'd burned out hours earlier. But the warmth near his hands prompted another memory to spring forth…

 _He snaked his hands around her sides and fondled her modest breasts, causing her to moan as she leaned into him. They had moved away from the door and were instead up against the wall by the bed. He had pressed her against the stonework, dwarfing her with his raw muscled form. At some point he'd been robbed of his trousers, while in return he had taken her panties and tossed them aside, leaving him bare and her with a bunched-up nightgown. He could feel the warm gap in her hips constrict his erect dick, creating a pleasurable friction that served to further stimulate him and his efforts to honor her. As he continued to squeeze her lovely melons, the material of her nightgown passed over his hands from its place at her neck. Now trapped between her tits and the thin garment, Saber continued his ministrations as she sped up her grinding, his mouth going to her exposed neck..._

Well there was a lead; find the girl with a hickey, and he'd find the source of his pleasurable plight. He'd confront them in secret, see what she knew or remembered, and if necessary make a bribe to keep it from ever coming to light again. On the off chance it was the Lass, he'd keep his promise to get her to the Temple, make sure she was safe and not carrying a child, and then leave immediately after confirming she wasn't. If it was the other two…well he'd have to get creative. First things first; find the one that's covering her neck today.

 _'Wait, they all wear collars anyway…damn.'_

So that plan was a bust. He could try to see which one had sore marks on her breasts from being forced against the wall, but somehow he'd doubt that would go well. Maybe the girl had left one of her things behind? A headband, gloves, maybe some stockings or…underwear! Saber regretted his snap of brilliance as the sharp tone only served to aggravate his hangover. _'Mother Goddess, it's been a few years since I got it this bad…not since that time in…where was it?'_ He mused. Still, he'd been in worse shape before and had to drag himself up under more dire circumstances. It took a few tries, but in little time Saber was up and clumsily slotting his legs into his trousers. Once the leggings were sloppily secured, the mercenary started to grope around his chamber, finding a lead midway between his bed and the door.

There was no doubting that the errant underwear had landed here; the drying puddle on the stonework was as good a lead as he was going to find at any rate. His legs protested his movements after their hours of wear the night before, and he limped/crawled his way back to remains of his fornication and rest. He sat down on the opposite edge of the bed; the side that had been facing the door…

 _When he had entered her, he felt her barrier break and quickly locked down on her screaming lips. He'd held her close, rubbing circles across the small of her back and leaning in to whisper words of encouragement into her ears, breaking pattern only to wipe the tears from her eyes. He waited for her to move before he started, knowing that it wouldn't be long before he lost all inhibitions. As their tempo increased, his hands instead shifted down to her hips as he matched her pace; meeting her thrusts with his own. Drunk with pleasure, her head leaned back in bliss. He could just make out the mark where he'd been necking her; the rest of her head was still bathed in the shadows. Her hips continued to slam into his pelvis; her rhythm aided by the way they sat on the edge of the bed. The sight of her nightgown (once again over her breasts) draped past her shoulders gave the illusion of long hair…or maybe her hair WAS that long and the gown was just making it harder to see?_

It was difficult for him to make out her face; even knowing what her hair looked like would be enough of a clue, seeing as how all three had varying lengths and texture. But all he could faintly recall was feeling the material of her nightgown, or the warm touch of her smooth skin. Maybe another scan around the floor could lead to some clues? With his muscles still protesting, he once again stood up from the edge of the bed and started to stumble around the small chamber. It took a few passes, but finally he found a new lead rolled into the corner and out of the dim light of his candle.

"Oh Mother, you've got to be pulling my leg…" he muttered as he made out the discarded vial of cream. Whoever she was, she was a kinky sort; not only had they partaken in some tongue dancing and the two-backed beast, but apparently sodomy was also part of the deal. Better news; his hips might be screaming like a randy goat, but his ass wasn't. Meaning that he wasn't the one taken up the cavern. THAT was an experience he'd been spared thus far and wasn't keen to cross that creek…

 _Still dark; shock of all shocks. What had changed was him now laying on the bed and the view front of him. Instead of looking up at the vague sign of exposed breasts and a head thrown back in sexual joy, he was being presented with an ass that practically hypnotized him as it devoured his cock. Hwas sitting over her and clearly had the reins, thrusting into her tight little rear like a man possessed. His hands weren't on her luscious cheeks, but rather had bunched up her hair into two streams near the base of her scalp and were yanking her head back. Somehow he was sure it was HER idea, if the fact she was calling herself a dirty pony could be accepted. He could almost make out her voice, she sounded like…_

 ** _*KRACK-BOOM!*_**

"Damn storm, how the hell did I manage to get any sleep last night?" Saber muttered as his erotic memory was shattered by the storm. He'd finally started pulling together his rougish uniform, fumbling with the deep neck green undershirt that exposed his well-worn chest. He wasn't fool enough to try with the belts or his bandolier; too many incidents of sliced fingers to make that mistake again. Instead he'd waste his time trying to secure the knots for his vest and leggings whilst going over any loose ends of his evening. Nope, he had nothing. At least not until he finished lazily tying the right legging together and staring down the end of his bed…

 _He could just make out the slowly blooming light of the sun outside his window, giving him just enough illumination to make out the definition of his chamber. It was a wonder that anything managed to break the blanket of wet clouds that had haunted them for the past few days, really. Speaking of, whatever blankets he had used was just barely covering his chest, exposing the grizzled and weathered body he had earned through years of being a sellsword. His vision was still blurry, but even with one good eye he could make out something off about his bed, namely the massive lump that was situated near his legs. That explained why his crotch was currently engulfed in someplace warm and wet, or the dainty fingers that were fondling his nuts. Such soft hands, almost like gloves now that he thought of it…_

 **"GUUUUHH!"**

"WHAT WAS THAT?!"

"Where did a damn Cantor come from?!"

"By Mila, they're at the DOOR!"

"Everyone outside NOW!"

Saber snapped out of his thoughts and stumbled over to the window. Sure enough, there was a nasty surprise waiting just outside; a horde of Revenant Terrors. Further off in the distance, Saber could just make out the unmistakable silhouette of their master; a Cantor. On the bridge between the fort and the land, a few of his companions were already out and striking back against the horde, fighting their way to the cackling summoner.

That sounded like a good workout; he'd always been better at springing back from a rough night with some good old combat. Maybe it would take his mind off the lewd memories or the throbbing erection that was now protesting against his pants…

* * *

"Ugh, if there's one thing worse than the smell of a Terror, it's a CHARRED Terror…Boey." Mae pinched her nose to fend off the smell as she glared at the target of her ire.

"Oh, ha, ha. And I suppose that tossing 'big hurty lightning' at them didn't have a hand in that?" The young mage crossed his arms and gazed at his partner-in-whine. Behind him, the ashes of his previous foe were being scattered by the wind and rain that pelted them.

"Well, obviously… I mean, that's… Shut up, Boey."

"Will you two focus? We're not done yet!" Kamui yelled back, deftly dodging a Revenant's claws before delivering a slice that bisected the reanimated corpse in twain. A second tried to pierce him, only to be blocked by Valbar's shield. The knight was bereft of his usual armor save his helmet, gauntlets, and boots. Still, he was more than a match for the rotted flesh of the Terrors.

The Cantor was already dealt with by the time Saber got there; nearly dead and spent of potential magical ability. Unfortunately, Celica and her comrades were being pushed back by the numerous Terrors he had already summoned. Too bad for the cultist the one-eyed mercenary had a perfect shot, and with a quick dash swiftly lopped off the emaciated man's head. With their caster's death, most of the Revenants crumpled to pieces, leaving only three left to deal with.

One was cut down by Celica, her Blessed Sword disintegrating the undead abomination in cold blue light. The second attempted to flee, only to be struck in the back of its head courtesy of Leon's precise aim. Finally, Mae blasted the third away with another bolt of her lightning, causing the last Terror to scream in pain before going limp. The band of eight let out a staggered chorus of pants and exertion. Somehow, despite being caught off-guard and with their pants-down, they'd managed to survive.

"That the last of 'em?" Saber asked as he turned back to his comrades, flicking the blood off of his Golden Dagger. A nod from Kamui and Genny let the mercenary drop his shoulders, content that everyone seemed to be okay. And hell, at least he wasn't the only one that wasn't dressed in full.

"Nice that you could finally join us Saber. I trust you slept well, seeing as how long it took you to get your ass out here." Leon asked with a clear bite to his tone, his right shoulder missing its usual pauldron. Boey crossed his arms, his body making the same statement without a single word spoken. He too was missing something, specifically his black cloak and one of his gloves. The group had returned to the fort and were lingering in the entryway, listening to the pounding of the waves below, the rain above, and their own prater within.

"Bite me, pretty boy." Saber growled, locking gaze with the archer across the way.

"Sorry: not interested."

"Oh just kiss you two; save us all the headache." Mae groaned as she massaged her stiff neck. She'd claim her bed had been just a bit too cramped, even for her tastes. Celica likewise rolled her shoulder, wincing from when one of her slashes over-extended against a Terror and caused the sore muscle to stretch too far. Minus a few of their flairs like Celica's pauldrons or Mae's shaw, the two were already dressed, suggesting they'd been already up for some time when things went south. Genny limped her way over to the group, her staff working to heal the blow she'd suffered earlier. Like the other two she was lacking her full outfit; in her case it was her bow and the cuffs on her wrists. Besides those omissions, all three looked the same as always.

Saber silently cursed the fact that all three already had their necks covered; it'd be impossible to make out which one he'd been suckling the night before and finally pin the identity of his amorous, anonymous partner. Even as she handed the surprisingly heavy magical staff to Valbar, he tried in vain to scan the youngest girl for any signs of his handy work to no avail. His thoughts were so consumed with his perversely intentioned investigation he barely made out when someone spoke up. Specifically, it was the knight Valbar who had been trying to dodge errant lightning the entire battle thanks to his armored helmet and shield. "Looks like that storm won't be letting up anytime soon; guess we're here for another day."

"Great, so were stuck in this old fort for another night? I'd rather take my chances out in the woods, pretty sure this place is haunted." Kamui muttered as he crossed his arms, leaning against the wall as Genny sat down to rest. When he didn't hear a response, he looked up to see his comrades looking at him with a mix of confusion and curiosity. "What, none of you heard the moaning last night? The woman that was wailing or the beast growling? It started after everyone else went to bed and kept going for hours! Couldn't sleep a damn wink even after things quieted down."

If Saber was even the slightest bit sober, he'd probably have put two and two together and had the decency to look ashamed. Then again it was probably in his favor that he WASN'T sober, since Kamui would've put things together much faster if he saw the look of guilt on the ex-pirate's face. Instead it was the trio of young women that bore guilty faces, something that Leon noticed with an ire-soaked 'hmm?'

"I-I'm sorry; my stomach was hurting last night." Genny meekly whimpered. It was her first time trying shieldfish, and clearly her body was not keen on the dish. Having similar experiences with some rancid meals in the past, Valbar related to her plight. Wordlessly the knight kneeled down to Genny and helped her stand, giving the cleric much-needed support for her tired and weary body. Figuring she should come clean herself, Mae followed up with her own admission.

"I had WAY too much of that wine. No idea if that was me or not though, can't remember a thing." Mae bluntly admitted, rolling her gloved fingers through her hair and letting out an un-ladylike belch. "Oh Earth Mother, this is the worst." She groaned as she stumbled, being caught by Boey before she could hit the ground. The dark-skinned mage looked in equal parts pity and disgust at the uncouth behavior of his companion, but said nothing as she silently cursed her poor life choices. That just left Celica looking guilty, and it wasn't until the others continued to silently judge her that she told her own story.

"I…might have had a rough night. My apologies." Celica simply declared with a bow, briefly losing her footing before catching herself with the Blessed Sword. It was no secret that the poor priestess sometimes woke up in a cold sweat with visions of doom and despair still fresh in her mind, even if she wasn't willing to admit it at times like this. His ire briefly forgotten, Leon had the manners to offer a sympathetic hand to the maiden.

"Don't beat yourselves up about it girls; not every day is going to go as smoothly as we'd hope. You three go and get some more sleep; the rest of us will take turns on watch for anymore cultists or brigands." Valbar explained, his tone shifting from paternal concern to a stern military figure. It was obvious that the knight was taking the first shift, with Kamui chiming in as backup. Boey tried to insist he'd help Mae back to bed first, only for her to harshly turn him down while Saber just gave a non-committal grunt.

"Well, I'M going back to bed; don't wake me up the next time we have a crisis or your going to be the next 'ghost' of this dump." The flamboyant archer warned as he stumbled back into the keep. Valbar and Boey were shortly behind him, with Kamui instead opting to practice muttering about a cursed woman's pleading. That just left Saber and the girls to collect themselves at the entrance.

"W- Who does that guy think he is? I don't need hel-" Mae couldn't even finish her rant before the mage practically keeled over, only being caught by Saber before she hit her head against the stone wall. "…Shutting up now." She meekly decided as she pulled herself out of the mercenary's strong, firm grip and stumbled to the opposite wall where her friends were stewing.

As Saber leaned back against a column, he took the chance to examine the three pious women. He didn't doubt that one of them was hiding something; the question was, who? It was obvious that all three were suffering in some way. Pigtails was clearly nursing a hangover like she said, so at least part of her story checked out. Then again, HE was dealing with the same thing and had the extra challenge of trying to find out who he'd taken to bed last night, so Mae wasn't off the hook, especially not when he could vividly recall hands as soft as gloves: perhaps like hers…

Meanwhile, the Lass looked to be exhausted and barely standing - no doubt due to her nightmares. Another alibi, but one that could easily be compounded by a night of fun. Being honest, Saber was skeptical that Celica was the one; he'd be sure that even drunk off his ass he'd be able to remember HER proper voice trying to express sexual thrill. Still, he would be lying if he said that he'd regret if she WAS the one, especially after some of the nights they'd spent regaling stories together. Well, mostly him to her; not a lot of excitement on a Priory turns out.

Finally, Curls… well she just looked timid and insecure, so no changes there he guessed. She didn't seem to have any more issues with her stomach, but seeing as how Genny was a healer, that was easily explainable. Saber could recall some of the times he'd catch her glancing at him from afar, getting nervous and trying to meekly get away. Clearly she had some issues with him or he brought out some unpleasant memories, he figured. If she couldn't stand him on the battlefield, what would compel her to end up in bed with him?

All three had at least a solid act behind their purported plights. Speaking of plights, his own headache was back in full force; guess the adrenaline had worn off and he was back to being a barely-functioning sort. There'd be time to try and investigate later, so the question now became; what to do now? Go back to bed, or stay up and keep vigil with Valbar while downing some more wine? As he stumbled past the three to meet the knight, his thoughts processed what he knew one final time.

 _'Great way to start today; waking up with a hangover, assaulted by some nut that tosses out Terrors, and I've fucked one of the young women in my charge's little party… Well finger's crossed there's more Ram Wine.'_

* * *

Guess it only makes sense to post what's arguably my most famous story from A03, huh? In case anyone's wondering, the future chapters will be focused on presenting 'what-if' scenarios for the three possible girls. I HAD planned to just release the truth and move on, but after how well-received the story was and how much fun it was to read other's speculation, I decided to use this story as a jumping-off point for other possible scenarios.


	2. IF - She Was Boastful

The eastern coast of Zofia was no stranger to harsh storms. On the contrary; the people that made such shorelines their home were familiar with how to use the weather to their advantage, and built their livelihoods off the showers that graced Mila's land. Not that Mae was focused on the rain pounding over her head; rather she was far too focused on emptying what little contents of her stomach remained over the ramparts to the jagged rocks below.

"ugh…now I see why the bishops kept us from this stuff…Mother Mila, this is the WOR-URP!...st." the rosette groaned as she stumbled away from the edge. Thanks to the weathered yet sturdy canopy above her, she was kept mostly free from the storm, with what little that blew in thanks to the wind acting more as a relaxing caress for her horrible post-inebriated state. Her half-done dress was thoroughly soaked, but besides causing her skin to crawl it had no other impact on the mage.

For the better part of the hour she'd been out here, trying to piece together the missing parts of her previous night. March went bad, turned around, a feast… did she actually eat anything? Now that she figured, she must've had at most a single helping of whatever fish they'd be chowing down. The rest could only have been the wine that had ben brought out from the storeroom… just the thought of that wonderful, painful elixir would've made her heave again, if not for the fact her stomach was thoroughly exhausted.

At some point she must've left, probably to find a chamber pot… that's probably where she'd wasted the rest of the night. The mage DID recall wherever she'd ended up being rather fowl and cramped… but there was something else she was missing.

Mae resisted the urge to bash her head against the stone; partially to jog her memory, but mostly to get the damn buzzing out of her head. The first two…three, chambers she'd stumbled into had been either empty or…the last one was occupied! Going further, she distantly recalled turning for the door after admonishing…well whoever it was in the room. Might've been Leon; she did recall getting a salty rebuttal…. Hadn't she gotten a reprimand the last time she walked in on someone's private quarters?

* * *

 _Whatever had possessed her to lean in an mash their lips together was lost to the duo. She didn't know what kind of life he'd lived, only that feeling his rugged fingers run through her hair before pulling her closer was all that really mattered. With a wanton moan she wrapped her nails around his shoulders and pressed her covered yet hard nipples into his broad torso…_

* * *

Mae sputtered as she cleared the haze in her mind. This was NOT the time to be thinking of Genny's little projects! The last thing that the mage wanted was to recall the meek little clerics surprisingly harsh words after the rosette had started reading her secret works. It had taken about a week for the two to get back on speaking terms, and even now Mae now had the foresight to knock rather than barging in.

The mage rolled her shoulders, wincing at every protesting muscle. Hands down these were the least comfortable beds she'd ever had the misfortune of sleeping in. Sure being plastered probably didn't help, but there was simply no denying that the spreads in this old fort were long overdue for being carted out and trashed…or at least set on fire. She might as well have slept on rocks and sticks; sharp, hard, _long,_ sticks…

* * *

 _The slight rustle of fabric accompanied the act of her nightgown being pulled up. She reared back as his calloused hands caressed her boobs, letting out a groan at the sudden warm assault. With the rosette's stomach being pressed against the unforgiving wall, her body was trapped between cold stone and warm flesh. Her sole piece of underwear was torn away just as his pants had been kicked off by her shortly before._

 _Dimly she felt something long, hard, and HOT push it's way between her thighs; just beneath her trembling core. As the obvious girth started to push into her legs, the carnal motions caused her pajamas to fall again over his hands and her breasts. Whatever protest she'd had planed was cut short as she felt him rear down and attack her neck. With the threefold attack on her neck, tits, and thighs, Mae grunted as her ass grinded along the abs of her mysterious lover…_

* * *

Great, so she'd had a lewd dream. While being utterly shitfaced and traveling with a combination of friends and utter strangers. Mae might've called that the worst thing, if not for the fact her only nightgown had finally given way. The left tie had been broken earlier. How she'd managed to do it was beyond her, especially considering how utterly inebriated she'd been at the time… honestly, that would probably have been a sufficient enough reason.

 _ ***KRACK-BOOM!***_

"Oh piss off; I've shot bigger bolts!" she yelled as she waved her fist. And now she was arguing with a storm… things were just getting better and better it seemed. Given how crappy she felt now, it really was remarkable that her outfit was mostly in order. Come to think of it the only thing she'd missed seemed to be her shaw. She'd waste time getting it later; for now she needed to keep yelling at the heavens like any other sensible person…

* * *

 _The Mage's curses were cut short as her rougish captor captured her lips once more. Rather than bite back, the nubile woman sobbed at the loss of her maiden barrier, taking little solace in his comforting ministrations along her back. He; a monument of war and destruction that could break the mightiest stone. And yet now he was so gentle to her and her delicate state. The sweet nothings that broke his lip lock meant little to her, only that once she'd gotten comfortable to press back, he quickly took over again._

 _With only the sheet she called a dress reared over her heaving chest, the Mage reared back and screamed…_

* * *

Of course it had to be THAT passage of all things. The ONE time she'd stumbled on the hidden tawdry tome located in the back of the priory's library and been caught by a particular Sister. No matter how much she insisted to sister Isette that it had been an accidental discovery, the woman simply didn't budge and insisted that "Pleasure of Self is Mila's will; supplanted only by Pleasure of Others" with a coy knowing smile.

Whatever; it's not like she'd been planning to get invited to any Zofian galas; not with all the messed up shit those blue bloods indulged in. Ignorance really was bliss, and Mae would've been happy to be naive for the rest of her days rather than learn of the debaucherous revelry their 'betters' partook in. Now she just needed to find some way to get this crap out of her head…

…Well THAT wasn't going to help.

* * *

 _Whatever attempt to look back were dashed by him grabbing her pigtails and pulling back her head. Even with the sloppily applied lube it still hurt like hell as he bottomed out inside her ass. Behind her, the mystery man continued to piston into her puckered bud with animalistic grunts and thinly subdued groans. Each thrust caused her already puffy eyes to water as she bit back every whimper, moan, sob…and purr._

 _The pain was immense…but the pleasure that ensued was MORE than worth it._

 _With such an overload of euphoria and agony, the rosette's words came out stilted and crude. While she was normally far from reserved, she also was hardly one to use such coarse words, least of all so callously. But as she felt her arms give out and landed face-first in the freshly stained sheets, the blasphemy that spewed from her lips would falter even the most stalwart of seamen._

 _So on and on they went; her mystery lay using the all-but ruined pigtails as reins as he kept demolishing her rectum. All the while she cursed and cried and pleaded for more. All the while having her hair pulled back like a filthy randy filly…_

* * *

Okay THAT one was way too specific. The first few flashes could be waved off as coincidence, but getting sodomized was simply too vivid for her to ignore. It also lined up far too well with her soreness and confusion earlier. It's not like she even had vivid enough memoires of passing out on a chamber pot (what a small comfort to know she HADN'T slept in her own bile shit), so that would only leave one explanation for what had happened.

So she'd fucked someone in the group…great.

 **"GUUUUHH!"**

"WHAT WAS THAT?!"

"Where did a damn Cantor come from?!"

"By Mila, they're at the DOOR!"

"Everyone outside NOW!"

…Good, targets to blast to pieces.

* * *

"Will you two focus?! We're not done yet!"

Another Revenant crumpled away from her arcane power. Before she could even fall to her knee and collect herself, Genny was already healing her spent life-force. While the uttered gratitude was somewhat rote, that didn't mean Mae wasn't genuinely thankful for her ginger-headed friend's assistance. It gave her time to process her bum hand…Mila preserve, her butt hurt.

So what were her options then? Out of the four that were traveling with them, one had ended up doing the (probably) drunken tango with her… but who?

Leon…yeah no. Even if she'd been a initially skeptical of the archer's flamboyance, it was now clear that the man's tastes were genuine. Beyond that she recalled there being some…definition, of a sorts, underneath the specimen that had ravaged her; the kind that the svelte archer noticeably lacked. If anything it could've been Kamui… not really an appealing thought.

Valbar…holy hell that was horrifying. Not so much the thought of sleeping with him, after all he was a nice enough guy and she could easily see his warmth and caring translating to behind closed doors. But the man was BIG; a colossus of muscle and strength that made her feel like Genny would around…well, anyone. Just imagining what kind of monster lance he could be wielding…well that would explain the prolonged soreness.

"MAE!"

The rosette cursed as she avoided a swipe from the spook that had reared up to her. With hate blazing in her eyes and thunder crackling between her fingers, the mage unleashed a devastating point-blank blast. While the Revenant was mostly obliterated, the fragments that remained had the unfortunate luck of landing in her screaming maw…

* * *

 _When Mae was young, she'd often sneak out of her room for some midnight snacks. One time she got a sausage that had been imported from the mainland; it was one of the tastiest morsels she'd ever had the pleasure of eating. She must've spent quite some time savoring the new treat, and this time wasn't proving to be any exception._

 _When dining with others, the rosette had been instilled with the sense of decorum and decency to eat with utensils. But seeing as how she was alone (at least she was somewhat confident she was; a natural trait only bolstered by her generous helpings of drink the night before), it only felt right to indulge in a little immaturity. Sitting underneath a blanket eating a stolen meal…she felt just like a kid again._

 _For some reason she wasn't planning to chomp down on this sausage… whatever the reason was lost to her however. Instead she opted to relish the meaty treat with her tongue whilst her thinly gloved digits caressed it's oddly persistent warmth. Without much sense or textile feedback due to her gloves, Mae couldn't rightfully tell what was queer about the meat dish, only that something was just the slightest bit off. Perhaps it was the odd shape from being sloppily formed; why else would there be a massive bloat on one side? And what the hell had it been dipped in to make the taste so repugnant?_

 _Still her tongue persisted, ignorant of her nose's disapproval or her limited sense of touch not lining up. Even when the sausage started to throb she continued on, daring to pop the knotted end into her mouth despite already rebuking it several times. Yet it wasn't until her wayward tongue reached an recession in the bulbous meat did she finally recall something more tangible._

 _Her mouth suddenly filled with an odd taste as a peculiar cream worked its way down her throat…_

* * *

"Mae? Mae! Are you all right?!"

The aforementioned mage finished wheezing in time to key back into what her companion was asking. Without even turning to face him she placed a finger up to indicate her pause before finally looking up.

"What? Did you get some ashes in your mouth?" he asked as he handed her a canteen. Mae took a large swill before coughing out her reply.

"Must've; whatever's swirling around in there is playing hell on my tongue." Mae bitterly explained as she handed the drink back. She hadn't expected to feel the surpisingly warm touch of her friend graze her knuckles as he took the offered canteen.

Maybe it was just her frayed nerves, trying to rationalize her wicked night and find a rainbow in the storm of doubt and regret. Perhaps it was the residual drink making her less dismissive of her niggling feelings. Whatever the reason, the oft-boisterous girl looked into the concerned eyes of her oldest companion.

She'd been wrong; there WAS another candidate…

"…Thanks, Boey."

* * *

"Oh just kiss you two; save us all the headache." Mae groaned as she massaged her stiff neck. While the battle had been understandably taxing, coupling it with her late-night antics made the pain all the worse. Now that the battle had passed and her early-morning adrenaline was capped off, the rosette wanted nothing more than to craw back to bed. Only when Genny responded to Kamui's paranoia did she deign to chime in again.

"I had WAY too much of that wine. No idea if that was me or not though, can't remember a thing." Mae bluntly admitted, rolling her gloved fingers through her hair and letting out an un-ladylike belch. No sooner had the last word left her lips did she realize just how involved she clearly was… Not even the revelation that Kamui couldn't have been her bedmate was much in the way of a comfort.

"Oh Earth Mother, this is the worst." She groaned as she stumbled, being caught by Boey before she could hit the ground. She didn't even bother to look at the apparent disapproval on his face as she continued to curse her plight.

That was it for her part of the conversation; whatever happened afterwards was beyond her scope of caring. Only when she heard her friend ask if she needed help did she have the gumption to finally reply. "I ca-can handle myself." The instant absence of his arms left her questioning if she regretted her decision. "W- Who does that guy think he is? I don't need hel-"

The copious amount of spells she'd been flinging around finally came to collect their toll as Mae stumbled forward. The rosette flinched as she awaited the unforgiving stone to rush up and smash her… and only when it hadn't come a healthy four seconds later did she realize that she was being held up by someone's arms. Arms that her body was MORE than familiar with.

 _'…Oh shit.'_

"…Shutting up now."


End file.
